


everything.

by lockandload88



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Dom/sub, Kink, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Night Terrors, Porn With Plot, Wet Dream, it’s not really khirk he’s just fantasising, long-suffering hikaru sulu, the whole khan thing really got kirk fucked up!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:55:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23892673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockandload88/pseuds/lockandload88
Summary: Sometimes he would wake from nightmares of Khan, only to fall back into dreams of him pinning Jim down, grinding against him, breathing his air.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Khan Noonien Singh, James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 6
Kudos: 144





	everything.

**Author's Note:**

> no i don’t know what this is no this isn’t REALLY appropriate kink negotiation yes this is a little fucked up YES i got a bit horny over khan but i’m alright now. enjoy

“Because I am better,” Khan had said.

“At what?” Jim had replied.

“Everything.”

The cold, sharp tone of his voice. Those eyes staring straight into him. 

Jim may have had a reputation at Starfleet, maybe even one he deserved, but that didn’t mean he let his dick run his ship. He kept a level head, at least when it came to matters of attraction. Mostly.

He swallowed down the coiling feeling in his gut, the shivers over his spine and shoulders, the spike of heat. Harrison, or- or Khan,  _ whatever _ , he was not to be trusted. He was not to be pardoned, he was not to be bargained with, and he was certainly not to be attracted to.

Warp. Scotty. Kicked in the head. Radiation. Dying. Spock. Waking up.

He  _ died.  _

James Kirk was fully no-more, for a while. Khan’s blood had brought him back. Khan’s magically regenerating blood, and Bones, and Uhura, and… Spock.

Spock. Wonderfully oblivious, dense, idiotic, emotionally constipated, lovable, truthful, unknowable Spock. What an idiot Jim had been. It had been Uhura who finally clued him in.

“He cares about you,” she said with a smile, after she caught him staring, “I think you should talk to him about that.”

Five years in space. Five years and many, many new developments, but one thing sticking in Jim’s mind like a bad penny. That voice. Those bloodstained hands. Those cold eyes, sharper than an icy blade. 

Sometimes he would wake from nightmares of Khan, only to fall back into dreams of him pinning Jim down, grinding against him, breathing his air. Sometimes Spock would be there. Sometimes he really would be there, when Jim inevitably awoke from his confusing blend of fear and arousal, a bad taste settling over his tongue.

He’d look over footage, photographs, reports. It sobered him, usually, remembering what Khan had done - what he’d been intending to do. Occasionally it didn’t help at all, just refreshed his memory on what Khan looked like, sounded like.

He’d lasted a long time without telling anyone. He’d like to be proud of himself, if there was something to be proud of. Look at me, James Kirk, repressing everything!

“Sulu,” He finally said over coffee, late one night, both of them still on the bridge looking over their newly-plotted course. 

“Hm?” The lieutenant replied absently.

“How do you tell somebody you’ve been fantasising about something fucked up?”

Sulu very nearly spat his coffee all over his screen.

“Sorry,” Jim laughed slightly, “Sorry, man, I just… I don’t know.”

Sulu cocked his head to the side, thoughtful now that the initial disbelief had passed.

“You know,” he said, “I would have thought you’d be the expert on this.”

Jim shrugged.

“Depends on what brand of fucked-up we’re talking,” the lieutenant said, “Sex, I assume, not murder?”

Jim shrugged again.

“Oh, great,” Sulu’s cheeks darkened slightly, “I did  _ not  _ need to know that.”

“Pretty sure you know worse things about me,” Jim grinned, “I just want to… tell him. It feels wrong that I’m not, you know?”

“Spock?” Sulu asked.

Jim nodded.

“Just bite the bullet, man,” Sulu sighed, “If it’s really that bad, I swear to eject you into space when the awkwardness gets too much for you to bear.”

“Thanks, Sulu,” Jim replied flatly, “Our conversations always leave me feeling so loved.”

“You’re welcome,” the lieutenant laughed, “Pick this up tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

The walk back to his quarters felt longer than usual. Silent hallways, the coffee still on his tongue, hands fluttering by his sides, eyes wide. In his head, a rehearsal.  _ There’s something I’ve been thinking about-  _ no.  _ Something I’ve been meaning to tell you. Something that’s been plaguing me-  _ what is this, Shakespeare?

Then a spike of anxiety as he got closer to his room, and no rehearsal anymore. Just counting his steps. One, two, three, four, five, six…

Thirty-seven. Door sliding open.

“You’re back,” Spock said warmly, something soft and grey hanging from his shoulders rather than the usual blue science officer gear.

“Yeah,” Jim nodded, hesitating in the doorway.

Spock frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

It would be strange, Jim thought, to call Spock his boyfriend. Strange, off-putting, unsettling, but not inaccurate. Spock crossed the room and put his arms around Jim with ease. 

That was Jim’s influence, he knew. He got to have Spock softer around the edges than most people were allowed to see. He got warmth in the mornings and little jokes and twinkling eyes.

“Khan,” Jim managed to say, and he felt Spock stiffen.

“Listen, he- I-“

“I know,” Spock said quietly.

Jim paused.

“You… Uh. You know?”

“I heard you talking in your sleep.”

Jim’s eyes grew wide.  _ Jesus. _

“When?” He asked.

“Several times.”

“Fucking hell,” Jim pulled back from Spock’s arms, trying to get a good look at his face.

“You never said anything,” Jim stated, incredulous.

“No,” Spock shook his head, “I thought it would be considered more appropriate to let you come to me about nightmares, instead of confronting you.”

Jim ran a hand through his hair.

“However,” Spock continued, arms hanging limply now, hands balled into fists, “I noticed… a strange pattern. At first, I thought it was a coincidence. Now I am… not so sure.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me?” Jim crossed to the small table and chairs in the corner of the room.

“Would that have been better?” Spock asked, genuine curiosity in his tone.

Jim felt himself deflating slightly.

“No, I guess not,” He answered.

Spock took the chair beside him.

“You were attracted to him,” Spock stated, “Correct?”

“Yeah,” Jim admitted. It felt good to say it out loud.

“There was no emotional attachment,” Spock went on, “You simply thought he was…”

“Hot?” Jim supplied.

“Hot,” Spock pursed his lips, folded his hands on the small table.

“Jim, he was a monster, a murderer. He seriously injured you-“

“I know!” Jim exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation, “You don’t have to-“

“Let me finish,” Spock said pointedly.

“You were affected by the experience in a profound way. You were dead, Jim.”

“You sound like Bones,” Jim smiled faintly.

“I do not think that sexual attraction being added into the mix is particularly surprising. I think the synthesis of that attraction with fear and disgust has disturbed you, and perhaps made you feel guilty. Jim?”

The captain looked at him, nervous, confused.

“It is not that strange.”

Jim blinked at him.

“You don’t think it’s… you’re not weirded out?”

“I think the experience was confusing and traumatic for all of us,” Spock looked down at his own hands.

“Confusing?” Jim frowned, “What, you think he’s hot too?”

Spock laughed suddenly, startlingly. 

“He wasn’t really  _ my type _ ,” Spock replied, “But I can understand why someone would feel that way. He was, after all, a genetically-engineered super-soldier.”

Jim laughed too, and they sat there for a while, Spock smiling as Jim chuckled to himself.

“What was it?” Spock asked the next night, after an eventful and tumultuous 24-hour run-in with tribbles and Klingons alike.

“What was what?” Jim asked, sleep tugging at his eyelids.

“What was it that made Khan so attractive to you?”

Sleep be damned, Jim was very awake now.

“His body,” Jim said slowly, rolling to face Spock in the darkness of Jim’s quarters, “I knew he could kill me easily.”

“That’s,” Spock ran his hand up to smooth his thumb across Jim’s cheek, “An interesting thing to be attracted to.”

“His hands could choke me out,” Jim continued, “They could hold me down. They could grab my hips, hard enough to bruise.”

“Would you like to be bruised?” Spock asked.

They’d had sex a few times, but it had been pretty standard stuff. Not that it wasn’t amazing - but there hadn’t been a lot of discussion around… certain things. Things that Jim thought about often enough, but never had the time nor the courage to bring up.

“I’d like to be marked up,” Jim breathed as Spock shifted on top of him, kissing his neck.

“Everyone would know who I belonged to. And he was so harsh. He would…”

Jim hesitated.

“Yes?” Spock prompted, voice thick.

“He would put me in my place,” Jim finished, looking up into Spock’s dark eyes, his silhouette illuminated by the blue LED light switches and comms screens.

“I see,” Spock leaned down, nosing under Jim’s jawline, “Is that why you bend the rules, Captain? Hoping someone will punish you for it?”

“Sometimes they have,” Jim said.

“But not the way you wanted them to.”

Spock shuffled backwards, parting Jim’s thighs with his hands, holding his legs apart as he settled between them, knees tucked beneath. A brief kiss. 

“Put your hands behind your head, and don’t move them. Understand?” Spock said firmly.

Oh, fuck yes. Jim was so down for that.

“Good,” Spock smiled, a tiny tilt of the lips in the darkness. 

Spock trailed his hands down Jim’s bare chest, down over his nipples and torso, towards the waistband of Jim’s old Academy sweatpants. The science officer considered the logistics of the situation and moved aside, removing them accordingly, before regaining his position.

Spock then considered the next steps in his plan and extracted himself once more.

“Hands behind your head,” He stated as a reminder. Like Jim needed reminding. It made him feel like he was being arrested, which was weird, and a little bit of a turn-on.

Spock returned with lube and a condom. Jim’s heart hammered in his chest.

One finger, then two, then three. By the end of it Jim was a squirming, begging mess, especially when Spock did  _ that, oh fuck, please- _

Hips elevated and grasped hard. For a moment Jim imagined Khan’s silhouette instead, brutal and horrifying. But Spock had beaten him senseless. Spock, logical and caring and honest, Jim’s  _ boyfriend,  _ by all accounts, had bashed Khan to a pulp. Jim should have found that fearful.

Instead, he found it incredibly sexy. 

“If you can’t keep your hands to yourself, I might have to make you,” Spock said lowly.

“Please,” Jim managed, “Fuck,  _ please!” _

He hadn’t even noticed his arms moving upwards to Spock. His first officer took hold of both Jim’s wrists in one hand, and grabbed his hip with the other. Jim was reminded of the remarkable strength of Vulcans. 

“Please what?” Spock asked, almost teasingly.

“Please fuck me, oh  _ shit _ , I’m gonna die if you don’t-“ Jim spiked into a realm of unintelligible words as Spock thrust into him, hard and fast, again and again.

“Did you think about him when you touched yourself?” Spock growled, “Did you think about being held open like this? You look so good spread out for me.”

Spock’s hand left Jim’s hip and grasped his dick instead, jerking in time with his thrusts. Understandable speech briefly surfaced amongst Jim’s stream of noise, a small  _ oh fuck that’s it I’m _ before fading into incoherent babbling.

Spock followed suit, biting down on Jim’s shoulder. Nobody would see it under his uniform, but Spock knew it was there.

“Wow,” Jim said afterwards, still breathless, rubbing his wrists, “Thanks Khan, I guess.”

Spock scowled at him. Jim laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> dude don’t even look at me like that you read it


End file.
